I recently stumbled across a Joni mention in this book by Ayun Halliday. While traveling in Cambodia, the author is invited to stay at a very sparse Buddhist monestary.

She says, "I concentrated on the whoosh of the pines rocking in the mild breeze. If I were a monk, this would be the soundtrack to my life. No phone, no radio, no burping, farting boyfriends making fun of yoga and Joni Mitchell."